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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798326">Good Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich'>WizardSandwich</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prowl Week [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Friendships, Gen, blaster his three siblings and however many cassettes he has at any given time, idw-ish elements, mentions of a cdrw and prowl friendship, mentions of an op and prowl friendship too, prowl has been adopted into the blaster family, prowl's holiday budget has to accommodate:, they invite him to all the holidays and buy him gifts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:20:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798326</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 5 - Command</p><p>Prowl meets some of those who will follow his command.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jazz &amp; Prowl, Mirage &amp; Prowl, Toaster &amp; Prowl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prowl Week [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Prowl Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Good Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I take it you’re the new second in command?” a voice Prowl doesn’t recognize asks. Prowl hasn’t been introduced to the army at large or even the mechs at Iacon command yet. It is understandable that he doesn’t recognize it.</p><p>Prowl looks up from his datapad. A blue mech leans against his new office’s open doorway. He recognizes him vaguely from a file that was probably lost in the sea that coats his desk.</p><p>“I am,” Prowl says. “Who are you?”</p><p>The mech straightens, just a bit, though he doesn’t remove himself from the wall. “Mirage,” he says. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but, well, I don’t know just yet, do I?”</p><p>Prowl raises an optical ridge. The mech’s—Mirage’s—tone is cool and coy. Prowl doesn’t quite know what game he’s playing, but he suspects he plays it well. He’s exactly the kind of mech a younger Prowl would get frustrated with, quickly and without warning.</p><p>“You don’t,” Prowl replies. He tilts his helm to side, all inquiry. “Do you plan to find out?”</p><p>A smirk quirks to Mirage’s lips. He straightens, striding across the room and sliding into one of the chairs in front of Prowl’s desk. He rests his chin in his palm. The smirk never leaves his lips and his optics never leave Prowl’s.</p><p>Mirage says, “I do. Is that an issue?”</p><p>Prowl frowns then. He’s not sure if Mirage is being disrespectful or if this is his natural state, but he supposes he’ll find out. “No, it’s not,” he says, turning back to the datapad in his servos.</p><p>The file has darkened with disuse. He taps the screen, watching as it lights up again. The file in question is a list of mechs best suited to show him around base. Optimus had given him the freedom to pick whomever he had wanted for the duty. Prowl sets the datapad down.</p><p>Mirage cocks an optical ridge, “Something wrong?”</p><p>Prowl shakes his helm, considering his options for a moment. Then he says, “Will you give me a tour of the base?”</p><p>Mirage looks genuinely surprised at his request, but nods nonetheless. “Of course. Prime didn’t show you around?” Mirage asks as he stands.</p><p>“No,” Prowl says, standing and carefully putting the datapads on the desk into the various cubbies behind him. When he’s satisfied, he turns to Mirage. “Ironhide stole him away for a ‘disciplinary issue.’”</p><p>Prowl almost says something about Mirage being involved, considering the timing of it and Mirage’s presence, but thinks better of it. It wouldn’t do to throw around baseless accusations on his first stellar cycle, as much as the evidence might line up.</p><p>“That does explain the ruckus,” Mirage muses. “Is there anywhere you’d like to see first?”</p><p>“No, not really,” Prowl says.</p><p>Mirage looks thoughtful for a moment. “Jazz will want to meet you,” he says.</p><p>Prowl places the name instantly. Jazz had been part of Optimus’ command staff for a long time. Some claimed that he’d been there from the start of the Autobot movement, but Prowl had been there even longer. Jazz had come along some time after Prowl had been confined to First Aid’s care.</p><p>“I look forward to meeting him,” Prowl says. And it’s true. They’d never had time to meet, despite the stories Optimus had told.</p><p>Mirage hums, “I would imagine so. He is notorious.”</p><p>They fall silent as they walk the halls. Prowl is not sure if the lack of chatter is because of him or Mirage, but it allows him to collect his thoughts either way.</p><p>The Spec Ops wing of the base is loud when they arrive. For mechs whose jobs it is to be silent, they makes the walls echo with the sounds of laughter. But perhaps that is why.</p><p>“Jazz,” Mirage calls, as they walk through an open doorway. The room is empty except for a single mech.</p><p>The mech perks up. Prowl has never seen a picture of Jazz, so he wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but now he has a face to place to a name.</p><p>“Hey, Raj, is this the SIC?” Jazz asks, rising to his pedes.</p><p>“Indeed,” Mirage replies. The whole interaction implies that Mirage had commed Jazz and warned him of Prowl’s presence. Which was more than fair. “Prime and Ironhide got distracted. Prowl asked that I show him around.”</p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Jazz nods knowingly. “Heard that someone got ‘Breaker to use his panic bubble. It wasn’t an accident either.”</p><p>Mirage frowns, suddenly irritated, “Do you know who?”</p><p>Jazz shakes his helm. “Nah,” he says, “but I imagine Optimus will figure it out. Then you can go scaring bots.”</p><p>Mirage seems a bit mollified at the permission. Prowl knows that he should say something as second in command, but, truly, he’d do the same for Chromedome or Rewind. In fact, he thinks he would do <em>worse </em>for the two. And Primus knows he’d jump in front of blasterfire for Optimus. He already has.</p><p>Besides, Prowl himself hated when bots purposely triggered his crashes.</p><p>“You won’t rat him out, will you, Prowl?” Jazz asks, almost prodding. It is likely to test Prowl’s reaction.</p><p>“I suppose I can let him slide. But if he gets caught, I cannot overlook it,” Prowl says.</p><p>“Noted,” Jazz says, grinning. “You know, from your file, you seemed really by the book. Good to know that isn’t true.”</p><p>Prowl feels the smirk tugging on his lips, somewhat interested in bursting Jazz’s bubble. “Oh, I am. I just have no interest in getting in the way of rightful revenge.”</p><p>“So revenge gets a pass with you?” Jazz asks with a snort. “Good to know.”</p><p>“<em>Rightful</em> revenge,” Prowl corrects. “I have no interest in unjust retaliation.”</p><p>“Yes, you do,” Toaster calls, helm popping into the doorway. “You didn’t have to make that mech cry. By the way, hey, Prowl.”</p><p>Toaster steps through the doorway and Prowl opens his arms for a hug. Toaster eagerly returns it. “Hello, Toaster,” Prowl greets. “And I did. He ruined Rewind’s plant.”</p><p>“That you gave him as a gift,” Toaster says.</p><p>“That I gave him as a gift,” Prowl amends.</p><p>“You two know each other?” Jazz asks, looking between them. “You’re <em>that</em> Prowl?”</p><p>Prowl, to make a point, rests his helm on top of Toaster’s and locks optics with Jazz’s. It is incredibly stupid of Jazz to ask that with the evidence so clearly in front of him.</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Jazz says. “That was a stupid question.”</p><p>Toaster pulls away after a moment, putting a respectful distance between the two of them, “When did you get here?”</p><p>“At the start of the light shift,” Prowl says. “First Aid gave me a clean bill of health an orn ago and I came as soon as I was able.”</p><p>Toaster nods, likely noting the information away for later. He would have other questions. “Have you had fuel yet?” Toaster asks.</p><p>Prowl shakes his helm, “I have not. Mirage was just showing me around. I haven’t even seen the rec room yet.”</p><p>“Special Operations gets its own dispenser,” Mirage says, gesturing to the far wall of the room. “The cubes are in the cabinets.”</p><p>“Just help yourself,” Jazz says. “Won’t hurt us any.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Prowl moves over to the machine, kneeling down to pull out a cube. He stands again and fills it. “Are Rewind and Chromedome here?” he asks the room as he turns to face them, though the question is mostly for Toaster.</p><p>“They’re supposed to be out now,” Toaster says. “Rewind wanted to take Chromedome somewhere nice. Sixgun recommended that bar in the Third.”</p><p>Prowl knew the bar well. It’s where he’d first met Toaster, loitering after a particularly bad argument with Blaster. He’d practically dragged the highgrade sodden mech back to his apartment for a good wash and a warm cube of energon.</p><p>Prowl takes a sip of his cube before asking, “It’s still open?”</p><p>Toaster nods, frowning a bit, concern evident, “Tellurium said that it dies when he does. And far be it for Iacon command to stop him when the ‘Cons are nowhere close yet.”</p><p>Prowl concedes that true. Iacon was the safest place for neutrals like Tellurium.</p><p>“You know,” Jazz says, tone amused—amused by what is unclear—as he interrupts them, “I heard Optimus’ thinking of putting you in charge of Ops. What do you think of that?”</p><p>Prowl looks between the three Spec Ops mechs he knows. Toaster is an old friend, easily forgotten and great at listening but a bit too easily coerced and attention-starved. Jazz and Mirage are unknown variables. And the rest? Not yet on Prowl’s radar. He’s not sure how he would feel about leading this unit.</p><p>“What do you think of it?” Prowl asks instead, echoing Jazz.</p><p>Jazz gives him a look that Prowl thinks might be an attempt to size him up. If Jazz is any good at his job, he’ll have gotten something.</p><p>“I just don’t know,” Jazz says. “But you didn’t answer my question.”</p><p>“You have your answer,” Prowl returns. “I simply don’t know. I don’t have enough information, other than what I’ve heard.”</p><p>“All good things?” Jazz teases.</p><p>Mirage rests an elbow on Jazz’s shoulder. Toaster tenses, looking a bit and unsure, as if trying to remember if he’d said anything incriminating. But Toaster himself had never really spoken of his comrades. Prowl knew it was because he was relatively new to the unit and unsure of what he could reveal.</p><p>But Optimus had spoken of Jazz in passing, calling him inventive and bright. He’d called him strong and loyal, too. All high praise.</p><p>“All good things,” Prowl returns.</p><p>Toaster relaxes. Jazz grins, as if that is what he wanted to hear. The edges of Mirage’s smirk tease at a hint of a true smile.</p><p>Perhaps the good things are true.</p>
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